"I got it!" I stared at the screen on the back of my camera. An extra blink to be sure and yet there it was, a frozen bolt of lightning. Remi and I laughed. It seemed lucky, crazily lucky, somehow.
We had turned back swift as sparrows as a rainstorm ruined our afternoon ramble. It approached swiftly with pelts of rain on the windshield in a "Ha. Ha. Ha." The clouds billowed heavier than smoke and yet, when we saw the little cabanon perched at the end of a field of wizened vines, we had to explore.
How different it must have looked in other times. Big tree giving shade to workers dipping handkerchiefs in the well.
We peeked inside to discern...wire traps for the creek running below, freshly cut wood and a forgotten chair that once gave relief.
The frame of an iron tonnelle bended with forgetting.
And I couldn't help but wonder, why oh why in France is the horseshoe always the wrong side down?
No wonder this poor little cabanon was ill-used. Perhaps we could look up the proprietaire, rent it out, fix it up and then it would be our get-to for the weekends?
You know us and how we like to dream.
But the rain pressed on and worryingly while the wind sucked the oak leaves upwards in spirals. "This is a bad storm coming, Remi." I knew it in my bones. You can't grow up in the Midwest and not have a feeling for that sort of thing. So back we scuttled as the rain pelted, turning eventually to hail.
Pop rocks that would burst our momentary daydreams but not let them be forgotten. The country is calling and I am listening...
Wishing you all a wonderful week ahead.